


Take the Plunge

by stormthedarkcity



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ballet, Banter, Club AU, Duncan (background), Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Leliana (background), M/M, Morrigan (background), Multi, OT3, Smut, Wynne (background)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-07 12:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19085053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormthedarkcity/pseuds/stormthedarkcity
Summary: Bee Mahariel works in a club, with their friend and flatmate Alistair. When a hot new waiter is hired and begins flirting with Bee, a few things come to light...





	1. The new waiter

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this baby for almost 4 months, and although it's far from done, I needed to start publishing it because I couldn't stand creating in a vacuum anymore... Local writer needs encouraging...  
> Anyway, this fic currently has 12 chapters in my WIP folder, but there might be a few more, depending on how this whole thing works out.
> 
>  
> 
>  **A few disclaimers:**  
>  **1)** I changed the characters’ ages and warped the canon timelines, partly because I wasn’t comfortable writing a 19yo Alistair with a 25yo Zevran in a modern setting... So, basically, don’t use my info as a blueprint for your own fic, if you’re aiming for accuracy!  
>  **2)** Bee is an afab, woman-aligned non-binary person who doesn’t experience any body dysphoria. I’m mostly basing their experience on my own, to be honest. If you’re wondering, the vocabulary used in explicit scenes is fairly gender-neutral, apart from the occasional mentions of specific body parts.

There’s a new waiter at the Griffin’s.

Or, well, there might be very soon, if his training with Leliana goes well. Right now he’s shadowing her around the main room of the club, listening to her with careful focus, leaning toward her to say something, and… Leliana blushes.

Is he flirting with her?

Bee squints at him from across the room and has to stifle a giggle when Leliana shakes her head, probably mentioning her girlfriend. The new guy takes a step back and raises his hands apologetically, but his smile doesn’t waver.

Well, that one should be interesting to work with, should Duncan hire him.

“Bee?”

Alistair is standing in front of the step that leads behind the bar. He doesn’t come behind it, he never does. Instead he sways from foot to foot, fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket and smiling sheepishly at them. It’s far too adorable, and Bee finds themselves pushing back a few less-than-innocent thoughts about taking that jacket off of his body. Adorable or not, Bee has a rule about not dating straight men looking for a girlfriend.

“Yeah?” they ask.

“Sten just got here, I’m off. Are you taking the bus home with me?”

Bee shakes their head. “No, I’m working until we close, tonight.”

“Oh!” Alistair looks almost disappointed. “Good luck then. It’s probably going to get pretty busy after eleven.”

Bee turns back toward the room. The crowd is thin today, maybe just a dozen patrons sitting in booths, and another dozen standing around, dancing or chatting. It’s not too surprising for a week night, and it allows Bee to have the bar for themselves, instead of having to share the tight space with Morrigan like they do on weekends.

When they turn back toward Alistair, he’s already walking away.

“Alistair, wait,” they say, loud enough to be heard over the music. He spins around in a flash, almost losing his balance in the process.

“Yeah?”

Bee puts their towel down and indicates the new guy following Leliana with a nod. “Have you met him?”

Alistair follows their gaze. The expression on his face turns unreadable as he blushes faintly. “Kind of? Duncan came to the door to get him before we opened, I think he’s Antivan.”

“Huh.” Bee watches the guy talk to a client under Leliana’s attentive gaze, his shoulder-length hair swaying with the movement of his head. They only turn back toward Alistair as they see him shrug on his jacket from the corner of their eye, and they smile at him.

“Have a good evening, Alistair. I’ll see you back at the flat.”

 

* * *

 

The guy is hired the next day. Duncan gathers everyone around before the opening of the club, and he holds his shoulder with a firm hand.

“This is Zevran,” he says. “He’ll be helping Leliana on the floor, and I count on all of you to make him feel welcome. He’s just arrived from Antiva. Zevran, something to add?”

Zevran tilts his head and looks at his gathered co-workers, taking his time, like he’s used to people waiting for his answers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” he finally says, and Bee could swear his amber gaze lingers on them. His Antivan accent has the shape of the smile he addresses to them. “I look forward to working with you.”

From up-close, his hair looks more golden than blond. Bee briefly wonders whether ochre and lemon-coloured paint would look right, were they to paint him. Not that they’re going to. They don’t even know if they own any paint anymore.

Zevran arranges an inexistent stray strand behind his ear, and his eyes dart to Bee again.

“Good man,” Duncan comments, tapping his shoulder one last time before letting him go. “Now come on, team, we’re opening in ten minutes!”

The evening is a busy one, and Bee wishes Alistair was working tonight, so they could chat with him on their break. Instead they spend it sitting on the bench in the small, quiet courtyard, craning their neck to try and spot the faint twinkle of stars in the night sky.

Morrigan throws a towel in their direction when they head back in.

“A little help?”

Bee catches the towel mid-flight.

 _Creators_.

The bar is surrounded by impatient clients waving hands and notes at Morrigan. Bee jumps behind the counter as fast as they can, and both of them slowly get the flow of customers back under control.

There’s a dip in activity later in the night, and Morrigan takes the opportunity to slip outside for a smoke break. It’s at this moment that the new guy – Zevran – walks up to the bar with a tray full of used glasses and a friendly smile. He puts the tray on the counter and flashes the smile at Bee. They grab the dirty glasses.

“How’s your first night going?” they ask.

“It’s going quite well!” He props an elbow on the counter and leans against it. “No one has vomited on me yet. I’ve been told that happens on occasion.”

Bee grimaces. “Yeah. It does. You should probably keep an extra shirt in your locker just in case. Is this your first time working as a waiter?”

“Ah, yes, this is my first job altogether, as it were.”

Bee pauses with a glass halfway to the dishwasher and looks at him. He looks a few years older than them, twenty-three, twenty-four maybe. “How?” they ask before they can stop themselves.

Zevran clicks his tongue. “My life in Antiva was… A little peculiar.” He frowns, as though considering his next words. “I was a ballet dancer,” he finally admits.

“Ballet?” Bee repeats incredulously. They can’t help but scan what little they can see of Zevran’s body for the shape of a dancer’s muscles.

“Yes. I’ve been – had been – with my company since I was a child, so… There was no need for me to get a job. They took care of everything.”

“That sounds nice.” Bee closes the full dishwasher with a click and turns it on. “Why’d you leave?”

Zevran’s smile twitches faintly. He waves a dismissive hand. “We had… a disagreement in methods, shall we say.” He pauses and distractedly glances at the main door, exposing the tattoos on the side of his face. “People got hurt,” he adds in a lower voice, before turning back to them with renewed enthusiasm. “But I’m here now! And your Ferelden is all-so-charming!”

Bee snickers. “Wait ‘till we get to winter. It’s all rain and no fun.” They grimace jokingly, and Zevran has a good-hearted laugh in response.

“I’m Bee, by the way.”

They dry their hands and presents one of them over the counter. Zevran grabs it but, instead of shaking it, he brings it to his lips and grazes their knuckles. Bee guesses it’s more of a Zevran thing than an Antivan thing, and they want to laugh, but their throat closes in on itself when the shiver of the sensation makes its way to their neck.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bee.” He smiles as though there’s a joke only he understands, before letting go of their hand. He glances down at the small metal trans flag pinned to their shirt. “May I enquire about your pronouns?”

 _Huh. Now there’s a surprise._ Bee had guessed Zevran was far from straight, but players like him rarely worried about things like names, much less pronouns.

“I prefer _they_ ,” Bee says, “but I’m alright with _she_.”

“Got it. I use _he_ ,” he adds after a pause.

Over his shoulder, Bee catches Leliana’s gaze. They nod in her direction. “You should probably head back in,” they tell Zevran. “I think your help is needed.”

“Of course.” Zevran throws them one last grin, and then he’s grabbed his now-empty tray and disappeared into the busy room again. Bee stares at the spot he was at just a second ago, and they smile.

Their first impression was right. Zevran _is_ interesting.


	2. A bit of fun

“Are you sure you can’t come?” Bee takes a step back from the bathroom mirror to assess the quality of their eyeliner. “You know Wynne would love to have you there!”

“I know!” Alistair shouts from the living room. “And it’s not every day she’s retiring, you and Duncan have told me a thousand times, but the deadline for this essay is Thursday!”

Bee grimaces. “It’s days like these I’m glad I dropped out.” They cross the hallway to their bedroom and let their bathrobe fall. They consider the clothes laid out on their bed for a second, before opting to pick up their binder and shimmy into it.

“Plus,” Alistair says, “I’m working tonight. I can’t waste my few free hours before then.”

“That’s fair.”

Bee emerges from their bedroom in jeans and a bright shirt. “I’d take your shift,” they say, “but I doubt I’d look as intimidating as you do.”

They stand in front of the table Alistair is sat at, squaring their shoulders and applying a scowl on their face. “This club is not big enough for the two of us” they declare, forcing their voice lower than where it naturally sits.

Alistair laughs and crosses his arms in front of his laptop. “Yeah, I doubt you’d make a very good bouncer.”

Bee sticks out their tongue. They swing back by their bedroom just long enough to grab their wallet, and they re-emerge a second later.

“Well, good luck, Al’. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They walk around the table and place a kiss on his cheek. It’s not rare for them to do it, but Alistair blushes just as much as he did the first time. There’s a shaky smile in his voice when he shouts back, “see you tomorrow!”, just before the front door closes behind Bee.

 

* * *

 

 

“Wynne has been working at the Griffin’s longer than any of us,” Leliana confides to Zevran. “She was filing those papers before Duncan even owned the place!”

“I’m practically part of the walls,” Wynne confirms.

She’s daintily sipping on a cocktail through a straw. There’s the spark in her eye that Bee has always seen there, since Alistair had gotten them their job.

“But it’s more than time that I enjoy my retirement a little, don’t you think?” she continues, and winks at Zevran. He laughs. He’s only joined them a dozen days ago, but from looking at him interact with everyone, one would think he’s been part of the team for years.

The bar they’ve chosen is scarcely crowded, given that they decided to go out early enough so that the few people with a shift at the club tonight could still come. Almost everyone is here – apart from Alistair. A few tables have been gathered at the back of the room, forming a long, messy line, and Wynne is sitting at the very end of it. Duncan is right next to her, watching her talk with the calm interest he often shows, smiling at her jokes between two sips of his drink.

“I’ll go ask for refills.” Bee stands up, and listens carefully as everyone gives their order. They spin around and make their way through the busy room until they reach the bar, where they roll on their tiptoes to have a chance to hail the bartender. They’re so focused on their mission that they don’t notice Zevran sliding next to them and plucking a towel from a pile, which they doubt is anything more than an excuse to come over. They respond to his smile with an arched eyebrow.

“I hope you’re not here to help me wave the bartender over, Zevran. I know I’m not very tall, but I’m capable of getting his attention.”

Zevran puts a hand over his heart. “I would never! Besides, I trust you, you are after all quite…” he looks them over and his smile widens. “…eye catching. If I may be so bold.”

 _Oh, so this is where we’re headed_. Bee returns his smile. “You may.”

The bartender turns to Bee then, so they dig into their memory to give him everyone’s order. From the corner of their eye, they see Zevran staring shamelessly. Bee turns back to him as soon as they’re done ordering.

“I’ve seen you, with Leliana… And quite a few customers, too. Do you flirt with everyone you meet?” they enquire.

Zevran shrugs, smile unwavering. “It doesn’t hurt to try. People either refuse, or we end up having a bit of fun.” He winks at Bee, who can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, that’s true. Which one am I?”

Zevran flashes his teeth in a sly smile. “I don’t know. Which one are you?”

Bee considers him. He’s smirking as he pushes a strand of hair back behind his ear, looking at them from the corner of his eye.

“I do like having fun,” they finally say.

The bartender informs them that a waiter will bring the drinks to the table, then, and Bee exchanges one last smile with Zevran before they both return to the others. The sofa’s occupants shuffle to the side, leaving them no choice but to sit next to each other.

They don’t have any more private exchange, getting roped into talks of the Griffin’s, and listening to some of the countless stories Wynne has for them.

They’re interesting, they really are. But Zevran’s thigh feels hot through Bee’s jeans. He doesn’t try to get closer, nor touch them more than necessary, but there’s something about the barely-there pressure of his body that makes it hard to focus on Wynne’s words – and hard not to smile.

Zevran gets up just as a few of them start leaving for work, announcing something about going to the bathroom, and Bee feels the loss of his body next to theirs like an ache.

They don’t know how long he’s gone. Maybe just a minute, but it feels like forever. They’re standing next to the table, saying goodbye to co-workers on autopilot, when they suddenly can’t take it anymore. Without the slightest explanation, they spin around and march decidedly towards the narrow hallway that leads to the bathroom.

The light overhead casts the brick walls into strange shadows, and Bee is struck with the desire to sketch them; but they don’t do that anymore. They close their eyes and shake their head to push the thought away, and–

“Bee.”

–almost bump into Zevran.

He slowly lowers his damp hands from his temples, where he was arranging his hair, as the bathroom door falls shut in a muted sound behind him. He doesn’t look surprised – Bee doubts anyone can actually catch Zevran looking surprised – but he doesn’t say anything else.

“I– You– You were gone and–”

Zevran inclines his head. Bee laughs.

“You were gone, and I missed having you there,” they finish.

He smiles at them. The hallway isn’t very wide, but crossing it still feels like it takes forever. Zevran just waits there, with pleased fatality, and lets himself be trapped against the brick wall.

“Did you now?” he murmurs. He’s so close Bee can feel the warmth of his breath when he talks. He isn’t that much taller, but he’s looking at them through lowered eyelids, and it makes their heart beat faster.

“Do you want this, or are you all talk?” they provoke. Zevran chuckles.

“Are you?”

“Stop answering a question with a question, you assho–”

Bee’s sentence ends in a muffled sound when Zevran’s lips find theirs.

_Creators, but he tastes good._

He slips a hand to their back, pulling them closer, but they refuse to let themselves be manhandled.

_Not right now, anyway._

So they push back, until he’s reminded that he’s the one being trapped against the wall, not them. There’s only a hint of his tongue in Bee’s mouth before he retreats, and he chuckles when Bee chases him mindlessly.

“Damn you.”

This time they push their entire body into the kiss, forcing Zevran to mould himself to them, his back still pressed against the wall. Bee isn’t sure who moans first into the other’s mouth, but the kiss becomes sharper after that. They grasp urgently at the front of Zevran’s shirt, chasing the taste of wine on his tongue, and when he shifts there’s the unmistakable pressure of his hardening cock against their hip.

“Want to get out of here?” they offer. It comes out raspy.

“Yes,” he says, and his voice has the same rough quality as theirs.

“We can go to my place. I have a flatmate, but he won’t be back for a few hours.”

His smile takes on an edge. “Perfect.”

Bee rearranges their bunched-up shirt as they walk back into the main room, but they doubt neither them nor Zevran are fooling anyone when they make up an excuse about being too tired to stay out.

Bee catches Leliana’s raised eyebrow and admonishing shake of her head from across the room, but she’s smiling. They stifle a giggle. Wynne waves them goodbye, and promises she’ll come by the club to check on them sometimes.

The air is still warm from the spring day when they step outside. Bee points at the direction in which they parked their car, and Zevran follows them with his eternal smirk.

“So you just arrived in Ferelden, didn’t you?” Bee asks to break the silence. “Did you find a flat yet?”

Zevran shakes his head. “I haven’t, I’m staying in a hostel for the time being. My leaving of Antiva was somewhat… rushed. It was actually a little unexpected that I found a job here so quickly.”

“Ah, yeah, Duncan’s like that. He tends to take in strays when he can.” Bee points a thumb at themselves and winks. “But I’m sure you’ll find a place soon enough. You might want to consider sharing one, though. I had to get a flatmate a few years back because I didn’t make enough money at my last job.”

Bee fishes their car key from their pocket and unlocks the doors. They slip inside and wait for Zevran to join them.

“What about now?” he asks once he’s settled in the car. “Why haven’t you moved into a flat of your own?”

Bee shrugs. “I don’t know, I’ve grown used to living with Alistair, I guess.” They click their fingers. “Oh, by the way, you’ve actually met him!”

“Have I?”

Bee starts the car and manoeuvres out of their spot. “He works as a bouncer at the Griffin’s. Blond hair, pretty big, a little awkward?”

Zevran makes a sound of recognition. “Handsome,” he adds.

Bee laughs. “Hey now, who’s bed are you trying to get into, mine or my flatmate’s?”

Zevran looks thoughtful when Bee glances at him, which only makes them laugh harder.

“Right now, yours, _Bellissima_. That said, no person with a _shred_ of common sense would ever say no to your friend Alistair.”

“Keep it in your pants, Casanova, he’s straight.”

Zevran sighs loudly. “They all are, until they’ve met me.”

Bee cackles.

The ride home is filled with easy banter, but the earlier tension finds its way back between them as soon as they exit the car. Bee thinks they can feel the heat coming off of Zevran’s body when they walk up the stairs in silence. He’s standing _so_ close.

The keys almost escape their grasp when they first try to open the door, and Zevran chuckles at their side.

“Oh, shut up,” they mutter. Zevran places a hand on the small of their back, and they briefly forget how to breathe.

The door finally opens. Bee enters in a hurry, and as soon as Zevran has followed they push it shut and turn their attention to him. But just as they’re about to kiss him, Zevran takes a step back.

“Before this goes any further,” he begins, and his glance slips away from theirs, “I want to be sure that we are…on the same page, as they say. The last time I thought love had a place in my life, it–” his voice hits a bump and wavers “–it didn’t end well. I do not wish to repeat old mistakes, and there’s only so much I can offer.”

Bee’s heart aches at the look on his face. “I don’t expect anything from any relationship,” they say, and it’s true. They like meeting new people too much to risk ruining it with unwelcome expectations.

“Good.”

He nods to himself. He looks relieved.

“My bedroom’s this way.”

They ditch shoes and jackets on the way. Bee pushes the door to their bedroom and hits the wall blindly once before they find the light switch. Zevran is right against them when they turn to him, and his hands start roaming over their shirt, looking for the bottom of it. When he finds it he tugs it off, revealing the binder sitting underneath. He pauses.

“Do you…”

“I’ll remove it.” Bee grabs the fabric on their shoulder and contortions out of their binder, before throwing it in their chair’s vague direction. Zevran moves closer again, almost trapping them against the wall, but he doesn’t touch them.

“Are there–” he pauses “–are there any places, or ways, you’d rather not be touched?”

Bee shakes their head and grins. “It’s all up for grabs,” they say.

Zevran returns their smile, and then his hand is pressing between their legs, over their jeans. Bee gasps as their back hits the wall, and they grind instinctively against Zevran’s touch.

“Fuck.”

They lock a hand around his forearm, the other one behind his neck, and pull him down for a kiss. Bee’s certain he can feel the warmth of them radiating to his hand…and if he keeps this up, he’ll feel the wetness, too. He moves his fingers, applying just enough pressure to make them want more, and each shift of his hand is accompanied by a bite at their lips, or a flick of his tongue. Bee feels light-headed. They pull out of the kiss.

“I’m going to fall over,” they say, breathing out a shaky laughter.

Zevran has moved before they can realise what’s happening, and he’s picked them up bridal-style as though they weigh nothing. Bee laughs, and they’re still laughing when Zevran lays them down across their own bed.

“How did you do that?”

Zevran arches an eyebrow and bows neatly, feet shuffling into the appropriate stance with the ease of habit. “I’m a dancer, remember?”

He grabs their hips and pulls them closer to the edge of the bed, until their legs are entirely hanging off the side. He kneels there, on the floor. After a glance and a smile, he undoes the button of their jeans and remove everything, trousers and underwear, in one motion.

He’s still wearing his shirt and jeans. Bee props themselves on one elbow to watch him look them over shamelessly. He’s grinning. He puts a hand on their inner thigh, earning himself a shiver and a hitch in Bee’s breath; he kisses a spot close to his hand, looking up at them through his eyelashes, and then another, and then his mouth is on their core.

Bee falls back against the bed. They can do nothing but grab the sheets and squeeze them tight as Zevran’s tongue darts out to taste them. He hums in content, as though there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing, and his arms come up to wrap around their thighs and hold them in place when they begin mindlessly grinding up.

They realise they’ve started babbling when Zevran chuckles against them.

“Come here,” they breathe out.

Zevran places one last kiss over their clit – they groan – and joins them on the bed. He only gets to hover over them for a second before they’ve pushed back, flipped them both over, and are straddling his clothed hips. He grins up at them and licks his damp lips deliberately.

Bee looks at him, at the spark in his eyes, defiant even though he’s being pinned down. They can’t decide whether they want to kiss him or unbutton his shirt more, so they do both at the same time. Zevran kisses them back but he doesn’t move, he lets them blindly undo all his buttons until their hands can slip on his naked chest.

They pull back to look at him. There are more tattoos there, thick lines like the ones on his face, running around his body and disappearing behind it. Zevran brings his hands behind his head and lets them stare.

“Off,” they finally say, gesturing at his shirt, and he shuffles to remove it completely. They get off the bed and kneel by the side of it, in much the same position that Zevran was just a minute ago, and he scouts until he’s sitting on the edge of it. He helps them remove his jeans and underwear, too, and soon enough there’s nothing but warm air between Bee’s and Zevran’s skins.

It takes all of Bee’s self-control to move away from him and to their bedside table, from which they pull a condom that’s fallen out of its box. They tear the packaging open and put it on Zevran’s cock without too much fumbling – which wasn’t a given, since Bee hadn’t had to apply a condom on someone else in a while.

Zevran doesn’t make any sound when Bee first licks his cock, but his breathing picks up pace. The tattoos on his abdomen shudder with the effort he puts into controlling himself. Bee takes him into his mouth.

They don’t make him lose control, not really. But it’s a thrill in itself, to have him struggle against his noises above them, and to see his Adam’s Apple bobbing with each hard swallow.

Bee hasn’t given a blowjob in a while, but they must have kept enough of the skill, because it doesn’t take Zevran very long to curl forward, fingernails scraping their scalp, and come with a grunt. They sit back on their heels and smile up at Zevran with satisfaction. He’s panting.

“Come back here,” he growls after a while, pulling the condom off of him and tying it. “I was interrupted in my earlier endeavours.”

Bee climbs back onto the bed, acutely aware of the pulsing need between their thighs. They watch as Zevran arranges their pillows and then grabs their wrist. He lays on his back in the bed’s direction this time, and pulls Bee over him, wrapping both arms around their hips.

“Higher,” he breathes. His pupils are still as wide as they were when he was being sucked off. “On my face.”

Bee’s heart picks up pace. Now there’s something they should have tried much earlier.

They place a hand on the wall at the head of the bed to stabilise themselves, and instinctively grab some of Zevran’s hair with the other. He hisses and throws his head back.

“Yes,” he says. “Come, come closer, I must taste you again.”

Bee obeys. The moment Zevran’s mouth is on them again is such a relief they feel like they might weep from it.

It’s different than it was when he was kneeling on the floor. Here Bee can grind against him as much as they want, and Zevran lets them, encourages the movement of their hips, and when he groans low in his throat Bee’s not certain if it’s for their own benefit, or if he’s just enjoying it that much.

His fingers dig hard into their skin. The pain of it grounds them, it makes the softness of Zevran’s tongue all the sweeter. It’s burning hot against them. Or maybe they’re burning hot against it. They’re burning hot all over, from the very spot Zevran is concentrating his attention on, to the air in their lungs and the sweat on their forehead.

“I’m– I’m close.” They squeeze their eyes tightly. Zevran hums his encouragement, his tongue twisting wickedly around their clit one last time, and then Bee feels their climax hit them like glass shattering. They vaguely hear themselves scream a little brokenly.

They don’t know when they get off Zevran, but they must have done it, because suddenly they’re laying on their back. Zevran is sitting next to them and smiling at them. He licks his lips, before bringing up a tissue – when did he get a tissue? – and wiping the rest of his face clean. Somewhat clean.

Bee feels a blush creep up their face.

“Creators!” They bring both hands to their face and begin laughing. “That was…” They lower their hands and look at Zevran watching them. “That was amazing. Thanks.”

“It was my pleasure, _ángel_ ,” he says, and from the colour of his cheeks, it might well be true.

Bee laughs again, and then stares at the ceiling as they wait for their heart to calm down.

When they get off the bed, muttering something about going to the bathroom, their legs are slightly unsteady. That make their way across the hallway in small steps.

The Bee that stares back at them in the mirror over the sink look exactly how they feel. Runny eyeliner, pink cheeks, and a well-fucked energy that makes them smile tiredly. They pee with their eyes closing on their own, wash their hands and brush their teeth, and elect not to do anything else when the tiredness become such that they almost lose their balance when rinsing their mouth.

When they walk back into their bedroom Zevran is sitting on the edge of the bed, studying them. Bee doesn’t have the strength to have a discussion.

They let themselves fall onto the bed, and it feels so comfortable they almost pass out there and then. They force their eyes open.

“I’m going to fall asleep,” they confess. “I don’t know how close your place is, so feel free to stay the night. If you want to use the bathroom, it’s–” they yawn “–just across the hallway. There are, uh, clean towels in the cupboard, and unopened toothbrushes under the sink.”

Zevran laughs. “Sweet dreams, _hermoso_ ,” he teases.

Bee is out before they can figure out a witty retort.

 

* * *

 

 

Bee’s eyes snap open in the dead of night. They yawn, trying to figure out what woke them up, when there’s a tug at the duvet. Zevran takes a breath that sounds like a sob, and Bee feels him move in the darkness.

“ _Rinna…_ ” he pleads, “ _Rinnala, lo siento, no sabia, pensé– me dijeron– Rinna!_ ”

Bee reaches blindly for his shoulder. “Zevran,” they whisper. “Zevran.”

He awakes in a gasp and only stops panting for a second to swallow thickly. Bee rolls to the side and turns on the bedside lamp. When they turn back around, Zevran is sitting, the shape of his back still in the warm light.

“Are you okay?”

“I am.” His voice is far more controlled than his recent panic should allow him for. “I am sorry I woke you.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Zevran turns around and throws them a confident smile, as though nothing has happened. “This story is not very interesting, I’m afraid. I’ll tell you a different one tomorrow, yes? I can surely find a better one.”

He pays no mind to the frown on Bee’s face.

“For now we should rest, don’t you think?”

He doesn’t wait for Bee to answer, nor to turn off the light, before he’s turned his back to them and laid back down.

 

* * *

 

Bee wakes up first. It’s almost noon. They throw on a bathrobe and follow the smell of toast into the living room, rubbing at their eyes. Their hands are blackened when they drop them, and they suddenly regret their earlier laziness about removing their make-up before falling asleep.

Alistair is standing in the kitchen with a cup of fuming coffee clasped in his hands. “Morning, Bee!” he calls, far too enthusiastic. As always.

 _Bloody morning people_. Bee groans in answer.

“By the way–” he indicates something behind them by a nod. “–Is that a new jacket of yours?”

Bee turns around to follow his gaze. Zevran’s stuff is still scattered on the floor where they left them on their way to Bee’s bedroom the night before. Bee smiles to themselves and open their mouth to answer, but Zevran chooses this moment to emerge from the room in his underwear.

In _only_ his underwear.

Behind Bee, Alistair chokes on his coffee and splutters out a word of excuse that only makes him choke harder. Zevran lifts an eyebrow. His eyes dart between the two of them.

“Ah,” he says, “I didn’t know you weren’t alone, Bee, my apologies.”

“No, it– it’s alright– Are you okay, Alistair?” They touch his forearm with a careful hand, and he looks up at them with tears in his eyes. His own gaze flies to Zevran and then back to them, and Bee is caught between the two with a growing confusion that manifests itself by laughter bubbling out of them. They tap Alistair’s arm amicably.

“You’ll be alright.” They turn to Zevran and wave him away. “And you, go put on some clothes, will you?”

He bows, and rather dignifiedly too, for someone wearing yesterday’s underwear.

“Anything for you,” he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is on a bit of a hiatus while I work on other projects, but I will come back to it!


End file.
